Magic of the Mind
by Anonymous Quill
Summary: The story of an orphaned wizard who makes his way to power and fame.
1. The Orphaned Boy

Book First:  
  
(Magic of the Mind)  
  
  
  
Tom looked at her in disgust. A witch? Spawn of Satan? It couldn't be! His wife, a witch!  
  
"You…you're a…witch?" he stuttered. Disbelief and shock took over him, "No, it can't be so!"  
  
"Tom, please," she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Tom, I…" She walked toward him, gently. Tom took a quick step back.  
  
"You…you stay away," he panted. Fear crept into his mind. She, his beautiful wife, was a child of the Devil? She looked at him, sadly, her blue eyes filled with grief.  
  
"Tom, I'm…so sorry," she sobbed. "Tom, no matter what I…I will always love…"  
  
"DON"T YOU SAY THAT! YOU…I CAN"T BELIEVE YOU!" he screamed at her, taking another step away from her. "YOU BITCH!"  
  
"Tom…" she sobbed. "Please, don't leave." She fell to the ground, sobbing hysterically. Tom looked at her with disgust and grabbed his coat. He put his hand on the brass doorknob. He then paused to look at her. There she was, sobbing by the blazing fire. That's where she belonged, in the fires of hell.  
  
"You, you go to hell, witch," he said coldly as he opened the door and walked outside.  
  
"Tom," she whimpered. He looked at her coldly and then slammed the door sharply.  
  
The stars were shinning down on him as he walked toward his car. The moon was full, a witch's moon, he thought angrily to himself. He heard the door open and he turned to see her, standing there, looking at him.  
  
"Tom, I love you, still, no matter what you think," she sobbed quietly, "But, please, stay, for me, for your child." He looked at her coldly. She was almost ready to go into labor.  
  
"You and that, child can go to hell for all I care," he snarled. Tom turned around and walked away, away from the house, from her and her child. "Stay out of my life, bitch!"  
  
  
  
Tom drove away from the small town. He drove full speed away from her, that evil woman that he once called his wife. She was dead to him now. Her and the child she carried. They were both the Devil's children, and he hated them. He put his foot down hard on the acceleration and he sped toward the town of Little Hagton.  
  
  
  
He saw Frank in the garden as he pulled up to his parents secluded home. He would never have to see her again, he thought happily. He turned off the engine and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He got out of the car and smiled. The Riddle house, a splendid and very expensive home where he had grown up and lived for years.  
  
Home, away from that witch, never to see her again, home, he thought happily to himself as he walked up the stairs to the door of his parent's house.  
  
  
  
"It's a boy, miss," said the nurse to Mrs. Riddle. She smiled down happily at her son. She had made it through that terrible birth, and now, she was dying. But, without Tom, she was dead anyway. Her son, he would be something great one day, she thought as she looked down at him.  
  
"Call him, call him Thomas Marvolo Riddle," she whispered faintly to the nurse. "I wrote this for him…in case I was to die. Now, give this to him, please." She stroked his tiny forehead and then held his tiny hand as he cried. "Tom, I love you so. My son, be a good b…" Mrs. Riddle's hand dropped and hit the side of the bed. The rise and fall of her chest stopped and her heart had quite it's rhythmic beating. She was dead. Little Tom started to cry even louder, as if he knew that his only family had just passed on.  
  
The nurse set him down in a cradle and picked up the telephone. She quickly dialed a number. A woman picked up and said "Hello."  
  
"Hello, Ms. Prince, I have another one for you…yes, just a baby, just born…mother died," she said to the lady.  
  
It looked like the orphanage had another arrival.  
  
  
  
  
  
Tom stared out the window and at the sky. The clouds drifted across the blue lazily and the sun shined brightly. He was six today, but did anyone care? Six years old and not one person on the planet cared, well, maybe one cared.  
  
"Tom!" Stacy said as she ran in the room, holding something behind her back. Stacy was about fourteen and had lovely blonde hair that fell to her back. She had warm and loving hazel eyes and she was beaming at him. "I made you something special for your birthday." She handed him a homemade card. He smiled up at her.  
  
"Thank you," he said quietly. He usually was quiet. He was a scrauny little boy with jet black hair that usually was untidy and he had brown eyes.  
  
"Well, come on, read it already!" she said eagerly.  
  
Tom read the front, which had six little hearts on it. It said Happy Birthday!  
  
Tom opened the card. He saw a picture of him and Stacy holding hands and smiling. Stacy was a great artist. Then, he looked at the page. There was a message at the right hand side of the page.  
  
Dearest Tom,  
  
Have a great day today! Though it's not much, but I do wish you the happiest of days for today and the rest of your life! Someday, I will take you around the world for your birthday, but, for now, this is the best I could do. Just wait until I can drive! Love you always, "Little Brother"  
  
Your "Big Sister"  
  
Stacy  
  
Tom smiled at the driving comment.  
  
"Stacy…thanks," he said. "But, no accidents when you drive, okay." Stacy giggled a bit and then beamed down at him.  
  
"Well, birthday boy," she said, picking him up in a baby cradle fashion, "Let's go eat." Tom smiled at her as she carried him down the hallway and into the Mess Hall.  
  
The food was gross, in Tom's words, but they had to eat it, or they'd starve. Tom picked at his half-cooked pancakes and almost raw bacon and eggs. He wished they'd at least cook the food.  
  
"Hey, Stacy," Michael said, walking up to the table with his gang of friends. Tom looked up and glared at them. They were always picking on him and once they even beat him. Tom had bruises for a month at least.  
  
"Wanna join us at our table," he asked. Stacy turned around, rolling her eyes and looking at him in disgust.  
  
"No, I don't, wanna join you and your little, friends anywhere. Just go, you are ruining Tom's Birthday." Oh great, she said his name. The boys glared down at him before leaving, he could expect another beating from them.  
  
"Stacy, don't…" Tom said faintly.  
  
"Don't what? Don't make those nasty, rude and ugly boys leave?" she asked, taking a bite of the cold bacon.  
  
"No, not that…don't say my name."  
  
"Why?" she asked, looking at him curiously.  
  
" 'Cause they beat me up last time you did. 'Member, you said that they should go away and not bug "me or Tom". Then, they beat me up outside."  
  
"No, they did that?" she asked, shocked, "I thought that they were rude to you, but…they beat you up?" Tom nodded his head and looked at those boys. They were glaring at him, planning when to get him, and he knew it. He shuddered, because last time, they told him that, "Next time, we'll use knives! Stay away from Stacy!" But, like he was a threat anyway. She was fourteen, and there he was, six. That's a pretty big age difference.  
  
  
  
Tom walked outside to the sunny day. He had his head down and his hands in his pockets. He wanted to disappear, maybe even die. He walked past everybody and started to the forest. Tom had his special place, that no one knew about, even Stacy didn't.  
  
There was a gully filled with sand that Tom liked to go to. There, he was below the ground and invisible to people who pass him by, except those who looked down to see him. That's how he was in life, only seen when people looked hard, like Stacy, and today, those boys.  
  
Tom laid down in the sand, running his fingers and toes through it. He stared at the treetops, and he wished he could climb one of them. Then, no one could get him; no one would want to. Suddenly, he sat up in alarm. Tom heard footsteps and laughing. The boys, he panicked. Where do I hide? He looked around frantically, but there was no place in the gully.  
  
"Hey, Tom," Michael said menacingly. Tom backed away, he was barely six and they were sixteen, and there were six of them while he had himself.  
  
"I thought we told you. I thought that last time…" he said, pulling up a switchblade, "you learned to stay away from her." The guys all smiled, laughing at his fear. Then, they jumped down into the gully.  
  
"Stand up, Tom," Michael said. Tom stayed on the ground, and Michael, pulled him up by his shirt collar. "You should do what I say, Tom, that way you just…" he said, putting the knife next to his neck. "…might get it easier." Tom tried to pull away and somehow managed. As he fell to the ground, he heard Michael yell out in pain. Great, he had kicked Michael, now he would really get it. Tom, shaking, backed away from Michael, who was glaring at him with such a hatred that he might just kill Tom today.  
  
Michael leapt onto Tom, his friends all held him down and covered his mouth. Tom couldn't move or make a sound. The knife slowly got closer. Tom shuddered nervously and one of the boys kicked him hard in the gut. Tom began to cry.  
  
"You stupid kid!" Michael yelled right in his ear. "You shouldn't have done anything!" the blade was at his neck again. "I could kill you, you know…" Suddenly, Tom heard a huge snapping sound. Between where the boys were kneeling over him, he saw a mighty oak falling straight towards them. The boys were screaming and running off, Michael probably the loudest, but Tom, Tom couldn't move because of the pain in his side. He was dead now, he thought as the tree came down on him.  
  
Tom shut his eyes. Wait, he thought, I'm alive. Tom opened his eyes and then cried out in alarm. There the tree was, hovering above him, barley two feet above him, it was floating. Tom tried to sit up, but all he could do was lie there because of his pain.  
  
Within minutes, Mrs. Prince was out there, and she then saw the hovering tree.  
  
"My word!" she exclaimed in disbelief. Stacy ran up next to her and her mouth dropped in shock and amazement.  
  
"TOM!" she exclaimed. She jumped into the gully and went next to him. "How?"  
  
He knew as little as she did. He looked up at her, puzzled and in pain. Stacy picked him up out of the gully. As soon as he was in safety, the tree fell all of the way to the ground of the gully. Tom looked at it, shocked and very confused. Stacy stared at the tree and then looked at Tom. Like he had the answer to what had just happened.  
  
"The…the tree…it, it…broke!" he panted, looking at Stacy and Mrs. Prince.  
  
"Young and big oaks do NOT just break like that, Tom, let alone hover in the air!" she said to him. She was trying to solve the puzzle, find a logical answer, but there wasn't any.  
  
"Tom, let's go home," Stacy said. She carried him through the forest and back to the orphanage. Tom saw the boys. Michael looked at him, shocked that he was still alive, that or the fact that Tom was not squashed into the flat shape of a pancake.  
  
Stacy brought him to his bed in the dorm-room. He couldn't move because his side hurt so badly. She stroked his forehead kindly, like a mother to a son.  
  
"Tom, it'll be okay," she whispered. Stacy looked down at him and smiled.  
  
"Stop shaking," she said. He tried, but he couldn't, he was confused and scared. He looked up at her and she looked down, reassuringly.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, I need to see you in my office as soon as possible," Mrs. Prince said to him. "Stacy can you bring him there?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," she said loudly and Mrs. Prince smiled at her. She then turned and left the room. What did she want, Tom thought worriedly. Usually going to the office meant that you were in trouble.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Tom was sitting in a chair facing Mrs. Prince's desk. She looked at him and smiled kindly.  
  
"Mr. Riddle," she said.  
  
"Yes," Tom said meekly. He was shaking again.  
  
"I have something for you. It is something I was saving for you until you could understand it. Being as smart as you are, I thought it would make a nice birthday present."  
  
Mrs. Prince opened her desk drawer and pulled out a sealed envelope. She then handed it to Tom.  
  
"What…what is it, Mrs. Prince?" Tom asked.  
  
"It is a letter to you from your mother. She wrote it before your birth." Mrs. Prince looked at him. "Dear, you can open it." Tom looked at the letter. His mother? A letter? Why?  
  
Tom broke the red wax seal and unfolded the piece of paper. He read to himself.  
  
Dearest Tom,  
  
I have already named you, for I just know you will be a boy, a very special boy.  
  
If you are reading this, I am dead, but that doesn't mean that I am not with you and that I do not love you. Thomas, I love you so much, though I have never seen your face.  
  
If you think things are bad, I want you to know that I am and will always be here for you, with you. You are my son, and a magical, special boy.  
  
At ten, be prepared for your life to take a wonderful turn. You will be with people like you, special like you are.  
  
Look at life and look for the best in others and in yourself. Be a good boy, for me and for your father, Tom Riddle. He may still live, may not, but he loves you too, no matter what.  
  
I love you, my son,  
  
Meredith Riddle  
  
Tom read this note three times before leaving Mrs. Prince's office. He could move again, which was nice, though he still had so much pain in his side. Slowly, he walked back to his room, re-reading the letter from his mother.  
  
Stacy was waiting for him. She looked up at him and smiled faintly.  
  
"It's…a letter…from my mum…dead mum," Tom said, handing her the piece of paper. Stacy read with interest. She then looked up at Tom.  
  
  
  
"Tom," Stacy said, looking at the note once more, "Your mother…she's trying to tell you something."  
  
Tom already knew that. Magical, special? Like he would ever amount to anything. When he was older, no one would ever know his name; no one would care about him, let alone think about him.  
  
Tom nodded to her.  
  
"I know," Tom said. "I want…to-to know what she was saying." Tom thought that the tree might relate to this note and the "magical" part. But, he had no clue about what would happen when he would turn ten.  
  
"So do I," Stacy replied, placing a hand on his shoulder gently. "We can do it, we can do it together."  
  
"Er…I guess."  
  
Tom didn't need her help, he would figure this out on his own.  
  
And figure out how to use his "Magic" to his advantage… 


	2. Freedom

Freedom  
  
  
  
That day played out in Tom's mind as he held the piece of parchment in his shaking hand. The letter from his dead mom, the tree. Stacy and Tom hadn't a clue what was to come when he would turn ten, and now, the answers were under the red, wax seal that read Hogwarts.  
  
Tom broke open the seal quickly and unfolded the papers. He saw something like a school supplies list and then a letter. He glanced at it, skimming it at first, and then read it fully three times.  
  
  
  
1  
  
2 HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: Armando Dippet  
  
(Order of Merlin, Second Class, International  
  
Confed. Of Wizards, Grand Sorc.)  
  
Dear Mr. Riddle,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
  
Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
2.1 Armando Dippet  
  
2.1.1 Armando Dippet  
  
(Headmaster)  
  
  
  
A wizard? That was almost more than he could take in one day. He looked down at the letter again, making sure the name was right. T. Riddle, that was him, plain, orphan boy. But it couldn't be a mistake, the tree that fell, that had to be magic, and his mother's hinting. It was his tenth birthday, July 31, and it finally had happened. But, they expected his owl today, whatever that meant. All chance was gone that he would get to go to "Hogwarts," whatever that was.  
  
Why did they send his letter so late, he thought miserably to himself. Michael still wanted to kill him; practically everybody hated him because he was a "genius." It wasn't his fault that he was so smart.  
  
The one chance he had to get away was gone. Tom stared out the window. Normal children were probably playing outside, without fear that someone would kill them in the morning, without having people trip them in the hallways, through things at them in the classroom, without knowing that they would never get anywhere outside an orphanage for eight long years. And the one chance he had to get out was gone.  
  
Maybe Ms. Prince could help him send an "owl" and get to "Hogwarts."  
  
***  
  
Tom knocked on her door during the lunch hour. She opened it, smiled down at him and then beckoned him inside. He sat down in the chair across from her desk.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, what can I do for you?" she asked him kindly. Tom smiled up at her, she would help him, and he knew it.  
  
"Er… I got this letter…it was tied onto a bird," Tom said, handing her the parchment. The smile suddenly vanished from her face.  
  
"That's impossible," she said, shocked and annoyed, "How…I thought I destroyed these!"  
  
Tom looked up at her, amazed at what he had just heard. "But, why?"  
  
"Why? Tom, it is for your own good!" Ms. Prince snapped as she tossed the letter into the lit fireplace.  
  
"My letter," Tom exclaimed, jumping from his seat, toward the fire. Ms. Prince grabbed him and half dropped, half threw him back into the chair where he sat. He looked sadly at the burning letter and the melting seal when Ms. Prince slapped him hard across the face.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, this is MY orphanage, whatever I say goes, understand?" she shouted at him. Tom nodded his head a little, nearly in tears.  
  
"That's what would happen to you, you know. That's what happens to freaks, witches and wizards! They BURN!" she exclaimed, pointing at the fire where the letter was quickly turning to ash. "DO YOU WANT THAT?"  
  
"No, Ms. Prince," he said faintly, his voice shaking. How could she be so mean, he thought. That once nice, kind, caring lady was now an evil, cruel women.  
  
"Who would adopt a freak, Tom? People like good little boys, not Satan worshiping wizards!" She said, a little calmer than she was a second ago, but still unhappy.  
  
"May I go now?" Tom asked faintly.  
  
"Get out of my sight," she said, turning away from him. Tom slowly got up and walked toward the door. He opened it and turned back to look at her. She still was facing the opposite wall. Tom didn't want to stay long, so, without another look back, he left her room.  
  
He knew he had to get out of the orphanage. No one had ever managed to run away. It was like a black hole; sucking little children in, and never letting anything escape it's strong grasp. Well, Tom Riddle would get out, he had to.  
  
"Hey, Tom!" someone yelled. Stacy came running up to him. "Happy Birthday! Where were you at lunch?" What should he say, that Ms. Prince was scolding him because he was a wizard? That would hurt her too much.  
  
"Nothing," he said. That was the common lie, and he shouldn't have used it because Stacy would know that it wasn't "nothing."  
  
"Tom, don't give me 'nothing!'" Stacy said as they walked down the hall.  
  
"Hey, Tom! Heard you and Ms. Prince!" Michael's voice came from behind them. "What did she say again? Something about a freak? Clearly she was talkin' about you, Tom."  
  
"A freak?" Stacy asked, looking down at Tom. "Why would she say that?"  
  
"Er…" Tom began, but then Michael then cut in.  
  
"Cause he's a wizard," Michael said casually. He smiled broadly. So he knew that little secret. At least Tom didn't really care that the public knew. Maybe they would leave him alone, thinking that he might turn them all into frogs or something.  
  
Stacy looked down at Tom again. "So… that's what your mum…" she began, but then stopped quickly. Never say anything that you didn't want heard in front of Michael, or by the time the day was over, everyone would know. "Come on, Tom, let's go somewhere else." She grabbed his hand and quickly walked toward the door to the outside grounds. After lunch they were allowed to go there.  
  
They went to Tom's "not-so-secret-anymore-place," otherwise known as the gully.  
  
"So, you are a wizard?" Stacy asked him.  
  
"I guess," he said, shrugging, "But, Ms. Prince, she burned my letter."  
  
"Oh," she said, putting an arm around him. He looked around the area. No one was there. This was his chance to escape from the orphanage.  
  
"Stacy, can I…er…be alone for awhile?" he asked he quietly.  
  
"Sure. See you later," she said as she stood up. Stacy bent down and kissed him on the forehead.  
  
"Bye," he whispered as she walked away. As soon as she was gone, Tom stood and walked in the other direction. He hadn't a clue where he was going or what he would do when he got there, but he knew that he had to take his chance.  
  
***  
  
The orphanage slowly shrank behind him until it was nothing but a forgotten place lost in the shadows of the night. Tom slowly ventured forward into the unknown city of London. Freedom felt good, but was horrifying. He saw people on the streets, living in boxes and barely surviving the cold of London. Tired, he sank down against the wall by one of the many homeless people. This was better than the orphanage, he thought.  
  
Suddenly, someone tapped him roughly on the shoulder. He jumped in alarm at the man he saw sitting next to him. 


	3. Little Hagton

Little Hagton  
  
Tom studied the strange man next to him. He wore crescent moon spectacles that shimmered when the light hit them and deep-sea blue robes that came down to his ankles. His hair even was different from the norm. He had a silver-gray beard that was middle length. He looked younger than his age though, maybe in his seventies. He was smiling down at Tom.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Riddle," he said. Tom looked up at him, not knowing what to think of him. Where did he get those robes if he was homeless, like Tom now was?  
  
"Er…hi," Tom stuttered. He turned his head towards the street. Nothing interesting to look at except dying streets of London.  
  
"So," the old man started, "Did you receive any strange letters lately, Mr. Riddle?"  
  
The man turned his head and also began to stare at the street.  
  
Tom was shocked at the man's remark. How could that old man know about the strange letter he had received that day, and, why would he care.  
  
Tom turned his attention back to the old man.  
  
"How did you know about the letter?" Tom asked him. The old man looked at him and smiled.  
  
"I am Professor Dumbledore," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "I am a teacher at Hogwarts." Tom's mouth dropped. A teacher from Hogwarts, nothing could have been better to him. Dumbledore smiled at his shock. "What, did you think muggles dressed like this?"  
  
"Muggles?" Tom asked the professor.  
  
"They are non-magic folk. Like your friends at the orphanage."  
  
"Friends?" Tom asked. He hadn't a friend except Stacy.  
  
"A young boy your age should have a friend or two. If an old man like myself has them, you must then too."  
  
"Er… I have one friend," Tom said, shakily, thinking of Stacy and began to sink into sorrow. He had left her, and she wouldn't have a clue where he'd be, she may think that he was dead. The professor noted his sorrow and quickly changed the subject.  
  
"I am here to help you purchase your school things and make it to school," Dumbledore said kindly to Tom. "But, first, I do not think that you would want to sleep out here. Let's go someplace warmer and friendlier." The old man stood up. He was much taller than Tom ever imagined an older man to be.  
  
Dumbledore held out his hand and Tom took it gratefully. Together, they walked into an alley and the professor held out a stick. After saying a word in Latin, a purple bus, labeled the "Knight Bus" appeared. They quickly got on to the mysterious vehicle.  
  
  
  
Stacy stared out the window at the crescent moon. Where could Tom be, she wondered as she gazed at the night sky.  
  
"Er…Stacy," a small voice came from behind her. She turned to see a small boy staring at her. "Ms. Prince would like to talk with you."  
  
Stacy got up from the broken down chair she was sitting on and quietly strode down the hall.  
  
"Come in, Stacy," Ms. Prince said after she knocked on the office door. Stacy opened the door with a creak and then came in, seating herself across from Ms. Prince.  
  
"Have you seen Tom Riddle?" she asked right away. Stacy shook her head. She hadn't seen him since he wanted to be alone at the gully. So that's when he left. He had run away from the orphanage. Stacy just thought he was still at the gully.  
  
"Oh, well, he hasn't come in yet," Ms. Prince started in a worried tone, "And I am terribly worried about the poor boy." Tom won't come back, Stacy thought sadly. Partly, Ms. Prince's fault, partly Michael's, and partly mine, she added to herself. "I feel so terrible…it's my fault that he's gone."  
  
"What happened?" Stacy asked, trying to sound ignorant.  
  
"Oh, well, it's quite a long story," Ms. Prince began, but Stacy cut in.  
  
"I have time…" she said quickly, wanting to hear her side of the story. And Ms. Prince told her everything about her and Tom's talk about the letter.  
  
  
  
The Knight Bus didn't have seats like a regular school bus, but was lined with beds, nice ones with pillows and nice blankets.  
  
Professor Dumbledore sat on the bed next to Tom, who was still studying the bus. He was amazed that there were beds, but mystified on how it got to them. If that was magic, than Tom was all for "Hogwarts."  
  
"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said. Tom quickly spun around to see Dumbledore sitting there smiling at him still. "You can sit down you know."  
  
Tom just then realized that he was looking around on his tiptoes, looking like a stupid little boy. He quickly sat down on the opposite bed, next to Dumbledore.  
  
"Are you nervous?" Dumbledore asked. Yes, Tom thought, I am. But, he was not about to tell him the professor that.  
  
Tom shook his head subtly. Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow. So he could tell. Oh-well, Tom thought, so what if he knew that he was nervous.  
  
"You will be fine," Dumbledore said reassuringly, but Tom wasn't reassured at all.  
  
Suddenly, a thought struck him. The orphanage.  
  
"Erm… Professor," Tom began, "Do I have to go back to the orphanage, I mean, when school is done?" Please say no, he thought.  
  
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said. Tom never wanted to go back, he'd find a way to stay at "Hogwarts" until he was old enough so he could leave the place in his past. Tom nodded and stared out the window. Where were they, he thought, he had never seen this place, and he was sure it wasn't London.  
  
"Little Hagton," the bus driver shouted to some other passengers on board. They started to leave when Tom realized something.  
  
"Professor," Tom asked, "May I look around this town?" Dumbledore smiled and nodded. Tom thought that he understood, but Tom wasn't sure.  
  
The two of them got of the Knight Bus and looked around the town of Little Hagton. Tom thought it was quite dreary, but he didn't care. His father lived in one of these houses, the ladies at the orphanage told him so. They also said that his parents were rich, so the house had to be big.  
  
"Erm…sir," he said shyly to Dumbledore. "May I look around alone?"  
  
"Are you sure you want to Tom?" the professor asked him kindly.  
  
"Yes…" Tom replied, "I'll find you, well, later."  
  
"I'll be waiting here for you then," Dumbledore said as he sat on a bench.  
  
  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Tom stumbled onto a huge mansion. There was an old man in the garden, tending to the flowers.  
  
"Sir," Tom said to him as he approached, "Is…is this the Riddle house?"  
  
The gardener looked up at little Tom with a scowl. Tom almost left, but, he wanted to find his father.  
  
"What is your business with the Riddles, boy?" he asked with a rough voice.  
  
"Er…" Tom said as he thought. What was his business with the Riddles? Tom hadn't planned anything, and, if he did meet his father, what would he do? "I wanted to, erm…speak with…Tom Riddle."  
  
"And who are you?" the gardener pressed with even a harder voice.  
  
"Tom…Tom Riddle," he said quietly.  
  
"Speak up, boy," the man said rudely to him.  
  
"Tom Riddle," he said loudly. The gardener's mouth dropped, but then he shook his head. Probably convincing himself that I am lying, Tom thought to himself.  
  
"Well, go on," the gardener said after a long pause, "Mr. Riddle is in the house."  
  
"Thank you sir," Tom said as he happily turned and ran toward the house.  
  
"WATCH THE FLOWERS, BOY!" the gardener shouted after him.  
  
Tom stopped at the steps that lead to the door. Tom was so happy. Finally, after all of these years he would meet his father. Tom quickly ran up the steps and knocked three times on the door.  
  
A young woman, probably a servant, answered.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked sweetly.  
  
"Er…I want to speak to Mr. Tom Riddle." Tom said with full confidence and happiness. 


	4. Two Mr. Thomas Riddles

Two Mr. Thomas Riddles  
  
The servant woman left site for a minute and then came back, beckoning Tom into the mansion.  
  
The place was marvelous in Tom's opinion. There was a golden, candle lit chandelier hanging high above his head and the floor was hard wood. The portraits on the wall of the Riddles awed Tom. He saw a younger man with jet-black hair and green eyes like his own. That must be Tom Riddle, Tom thought happily as he followed the servant down the extravagant hall.  
  
"This way, young-man," the woman said kindly, pointing toward the opened door. Tom thanked her and then entered the room.  
  
It looked like a study. The walls were lined with bookshelves except for the one window that over looked the back yard, the door, and the crackling fireplace that was behind the desk where the man sat.  
  
He was the man in the portrait and Tom knew it.  
  
"What can I do…" he began, but then he got a good look at Tom, "You…you are just a child!"  
  
"I know," Tom replied. "I think…"  
  
"You think," the man said haughtily, "What a smart child, that he can think."  
  
"My name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle," Tom said, trying to impress the man who might be his father. The man at the desk sharply stood up and marched over to Tom. "Hello," Ton said.  
  
The man knelt down to get a better look at him.  
  
"Who…who is your mother, Tom," the man asked.  
  
"Er…I never, well, met her, but her name was Meredith," Tom said. The man's mouth dropped and his eyes widened.  
  
"You…are you sure, little boy?" Tom nodded his head. "So, what brings you here?"  
  
"You do," Tom said with his confidence back, "I think that you might be my father and I wanted…" He couldn't finish his sentence and before he knew it, he was lying on the floor, the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled for air, the man knelt down on his knees and hovered close to his face. His hand curled around his throat. Tom's eye's widened with shock and he began to struggle, but the man hit him in the chest.  
  
"You…are you one of them…those freaks, bloody hell-worshipers?" Tom shook his head as much as he could. Please, let me go, he thought.  
  
"You, are you a wizard?"  
  
Tom didn't want to lie, but saying he was could result in death, so, he shook his head again.  
  
"You LIE!" the man shrieked and lifted his fist to hit him again. Tom's body tensed, but nothing came. He looked up and saw that the man was frozen.  
  
"You…do not touch that boy ever again," Tom heard a familiar voice say. The man was suddenly pushed off of him and onto the floor. Tom looked up to see a stern faced Dumbledore. How did he get here, Tom thought, puzzled by everything that had happened.  
  
"Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore began, speaking to the man who was now frozen on the floor. "This is your son, no matter what he is, he is your son. Hitting him won't change that. This boy," he said, sharply pointing at Tom, who was still lying on the floor, "Is one of the brightest, nicest and best boys you will ever lay eyes on, and you have given up the chance of your life time to be his father. You should be ashamed at your behavior with him, and Meredith. Tom," Dumbledore said, now looking at Tom. The professor helped him to his feet and then unfroze the man. Both Riddles' began to tremble. "Tom, let us leave this place."  
  
The two of them left the study and went out the door. Tom was still processing what had just happened.  
  
As soon as they were away from any "muggles" Tom had to ask some questions.  
  
"How, how did you…" Tom began.  
  
"How did I get there? It is a technique learned by many wizards," Dumbledore cut in.  
  
"Oh," Tom said, still confused, "Why did he…"  
  
"Hit you?" Dumbledore cut in again, "He and his parents think wizardry is from hell and that is why he left your mother, before you were born. Now, he hates you for the same reason."  
  
That ended their conversation for a while. The professor summoned the Knight Bus once again and they sat on separate beds in silence. Tom then laid down and stared at the ceiling. How could his dad hate him for that? It wasn't his fault he was a wizard and that man didn't even know him. Someday, Tom thought hatefully to himself, I will have my revenge, for me and for my mother. He will pay for the orphanage, for hurting Meredith Riddle and for me, and he won't know what's coming.  
  
"Well, Mr. Riddle, welcome to the Leaky Caldron," Dumbledore said when the bus stopped. Tom saw a small pub that he wouldn't have noticed if Dumbledore hadn't pointed to it. "Let's get a room, shall we?"  
  
Stacy looked around the mess hall sadly. Life at the orphanage had taken an awful turn. Without Tom, she was filled with sadness. She could have stopped him from leaving, and now, he was probably dead and it was her fault.  
  
Then, the doors burst open with a strong gust of wind. Everyone turned in shock toward the door, including Stacy.  
  
But, what came in wasn't what she expected, it was an owl. A midnight black owl. It swooped down and landed in front of her.  
  
She looked at it curiously and then noticed a piece of parchment attached to it's leg.  
  
Stacy took the parchment and then the black owl soared out the door. Everyone was staring at her with curiosity and amazement. She had never received a letter from an owl before and she was nervous because of it. Stacy broke the seal with a trembling hand and read…  
  
Dear Stacy,  
  
Hello, it's me, Tom. I ran away from the orphanage, sorry if I scared you. I am all right now. A man called Dumbledore found me when I was in London and he's a professor at Hogwarts. Can you believe that I am actually going? I'm going to be a wizard, with or without that old cow named Ms. Prince! Yes! Anyway, I hope you are OK and I am sorry if I scared you. I have to go now but, I hope you liked my owl, he may be seeing you a lot now that I am going to school.  
  
Tom  
  
PS. I'll see you this summer when school gets out.  
  
  
  
Stacy sighed with relief. So he was alive and safe with a professor. How on earth did he get to London, she thought. But, she didn't have time to dwell on that thought because Michael snatched the letter from her hand.  
  
"Hey, GIVE THAT BACK!" she yelled at him.  
  
"Let me read it first," Michael said as he held the letter high above his head. He was taller than she was, so, she couldn't reach Tom's letter. Stacy then did the only thing she could think of, she kicked Michael hard in the shin. He grunted in pain, swaggered , but still stood. So, Stacy kicked him in the crotch. He screamed and fell to his knees while Stacy grabbed the letter.  
  
"Ha!" she said triumphantly, holding the letter above her head. Then, someone else snatched it from her. "Hey give that ba…" she began, but stopped as soon as she saw who it was. Ms. Prince stood there, holding the letter in her hand. She read the letter twice before looking at Stacy again.  
  
"So, old cow, hmm," she said with a smile to Stacy. "So, he made it to that…that freak school. He outsmarted even me and is the first child to run away from this place. Interesting…"  
  
"Er…may I have my letter back," Stacy asked Ms. Prince. Without word, she handed Stacy the letter back and left the mess hall.  
  
  
  
Tom woke up bright and early the next morning. He hoped Stacy had received the letter by now so she wouldn't be too worried about him. He hopped out of bed and quickly got dressed. I should wait for Dumbledore to get me, he thought, so he sat down on his bed in the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
He sat for only a half and hour before Dumbledore came in to wake him.  
  
"Up so soon," the professor a said with a smile on his old face. "Well, it is time that we left to fetch your things for school."  
  
Tom smiled, this is what he wanted to hear. No stops, just right to Diagon alley, or whatever the place was called. He stood up quickly and walked, half ran, out of the room. Dumbledore chuckled at his excitement.  
  
They walked out of the Leaky Cauldron, using the back exit. However, to Tom's great disappointment, they faced a strong brick wall. He frowned and Dumbledore chuckled again.  
  
"Why are you laughing? There's a wall here and we can't just move it," Tom complained to the old man. Dumbledore just smiled and pulled out his wand and tapped the bricks.  
  
"You can't move it, it's impossible to do…" Tom protested, but then saw the wall beginning to change. The bricks shifted and began to form a door like an arch. Tom's mouth dropped and Dumbledore smiled at his shock.  
  
"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Riddle," Dumbledore said as he stepped through the arch. Tom cautiously followed the professor into the world of magic. 


End file.
